A Diplomat, A Doctor and A Dog Walk Into A Bar
by sga gatekeeper
Summary: Crack!Fic. John is turned into a dog. May be the first of many. Pre-slash, will turn into slash at some point.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This cracky fic is the result of spending a weekend reading stories about John turning into a cat. They were lovely and amazing, but I'm dog person and it amuses me that Rodney's not, so yes. I decided to turn him into one and the easiest way to do that was by turning John into a dog. This is different from what I'm used to writing, but it was fun. Written at work on a lazy Sunday, so forgive typos and the like. Don't forget that I love reviews.**

.::.

"It was supposed to be an easy mission," Elizabeth said incredulously, arms crossed over her chest. She was glaring but Rodney just glared back because it wasn't like this was _his_ fault. It wasn't. At all. Except maybe just a little. "What the hell happened?"

Rodney didn't know what she expected him to say. It's pretty clear, he thought, looking over at the long haired black and tan dog sprawled out on the gurney. "Well," he said with a half shrug. "You know those wacky ancients."

"_Rodney_!"

"I don't know, Elizabeth! One minute, he was slouching against a wall and then the next, there was a white beam of light and then boom! The next thing we know, he's a dog!"

"I need more information than that," she said but Rodney had no more information to give. He couldn't even tell her what he'd been doing at the time of the John's transformation. It wasn't like he'd _intentionally_ turned his best friend into a dog because really, if he wanted to turn John into an animal, he would have chosen a cat. Much cleaner. "Well?"

"Oh, sorry, what?"

Elizabeth didn't look very diplomatic. In fact, she looked a little like she wanted to kill him, but luckily, he knew that she hated the paperwork almost as much as John did. He was still relieved when she took a deep breath. "How long before you can fix this?" She asked.

"Listen, I know you people like to think of me as a miracle worker, but it doesn't work like that! I have no clue what the purpose of that stupid machine even was, which means I'll need to check the databases and—"

"Rodney, my patience is wearing very thin right now."

"—And Ronon might have shot it."

For a minute, Rodney thought her head might actually explode. "What did you just say?"

Of course, Ronon (the traitor) wasn't around to finger his blaster menacingly and silently dare Elizabeth to question him. "Uh… well, you see… he's not around Ancient Tech a lot so he wasn't expecting it. And when the light completely engulfed John, it was startling, to say the least and I couldn't shut it off, so it seemed that, to Ronon anyway, the best course of action was to shoot it. And you can't say it was ineffectual, because it turned the machine off… kind of."

"Can it be fixed?"

Rodney wilted a little, his shoulders hunched miserably. "I don't know, to be honest. If I can find enough information in the database, I should be able to fix it, but it's going to take awhile."

"Okay," Elizabeth said and at least she looked a little more calm. "Teyla said something about inscriptions? On the walls of the outpost."

"Yes. We were just about to head back to the gate to radio for a linguist when…" he gestured vaguely to John's unconscious doggy form.

"Very well. I'll send a team of linguists through with your best scientists and we'll see if we can't figure this out. In the meantime—"

"—I _am_ my best scientist!" Rodney protested.

"—In the meantime," Elizabeth said, cocking an eyebrow at him meaningfully, "I want you here going through the database. Anything you can find that you think may help turn John back into a person."

Rodney stared at her for a moment. "You know, for someone who just found out that the military commander of this base has been turned into a dog, you're taking this remarkably well. I mean, once you got past the scary glaring and vein-in-the-temple throbbing stage."

"At least he didn't turn into a bug."

Rodney considered it. "Point."

"Okay then," Elizabeth said. "Keep me posted."

"Wait… wait, wait, wait! What am I supposed to do with him?"

Elizabeth paused at the doorway and looked back at the dog—_John_, Rodney reminded himself—before she shrugged. "I don't know, but I wouldn't suggest you try to collar him."

And just like that, she was gone.

.::.

Rodney wasn't a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy. He liked to have a plan, especially under circumstances as ridiculous as this. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of a dog, but he was pretty sure that Carson raised a bunch of sheep herding dogs or something back in Scotland, so was the first one that Rodney recruited.

"I need to find out what breed he is. I'm pretty sure it's some kind of shepherd, but I'd like to be sure."

"And what exactly am I supposed to look for when I figure it out?"

"Find out if they're supposed to be so lazy," Rodney said dryly. "Anything that could help us to better take care of him. Anything breed specific that will make his care different from any other breed of dog. I don't know, Carson. You're the voodoo practitioner here."

"I'm a people doctor, Rodney. I'm not a bloody veterinarian."

"Close enough. Now go."

Carson stalked off, grumbling under his breath. Rodney thought about shouting after him to make sure he brought a pot of coffee on his return, but then the swish of the black and tan tail caught his attention.

"Decided to join the land of the living, I see," Rodney commented, as if talking to a dog-shaped-John was the most natural thing in the world.

A low, guttural growl escaped John as his eyes fluttered open and then all of a sudden, he was up on all fours, growling and baring his extremely pointy teeth.

"Okay," Rodney said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You're confused. It's okay. It's okay, John," he said, resisting the urge to use that ridiculous baby talk that he often adopted when handling his cat back home. "I don't know if you can understand me, but it's okay."

Dog John gave a loud, thunderous bark that startled the crap out of Rodney. He jumped back, clutching his chest.

"THAT is why I prefer cats!" He hissed. "Jesus!" John snarled this time and it was a truly terrifying sound. "Okay, okay! I didn't mean that! I mean, I do prefer cats over dogs, but, but, but… can you stop with the snarling and growling? Please?"

Rodney didn't think it was possible for dogs to glare, but John managed it, though he did stop growling.

"Better! Thank you!" Rodney straightened up, smoothing his hands over the front of his shirt. "Now I uh… assume you can understand me, so you know I'm not going to hurt you. This is freaky and weird and you're a _dog_ for Christ's sake, but it'll be okay, because I'm going to fix this. I'm going to fix it, John."

That seemed to appease John, because he sat and Rodney had to resist the urge to praise him for it.

He doubted a _good boy_ and a pat on the head would be welcomed at this juncture.

"Are you uh… you know, okay enough to maybe get out of here? It's not like we could do much for you in the infirmary but it seemed like a good idea to keep you away from everyone until we figured out what the hell was going on. But since you're awake, we would probably be better off if we went back to your quarters, right?"

John just stared.

"Well, you're not coming back to _my_ quarters," Rodney said, horrified at the thought. "You're probably going to shed and, and, and cat hair was bad enough, but your hair is _really_ long and I should have expected that, because _hair_ but no. No. We'll go to your quarters, so… uh… down?"

John bared his teeth again.

"Please don't bite me." Rodney said, wincing a little.

John stood up on the gurney, swaying just a little slightly. Rodney figured it was a little weird getting used to being down on all fours, but he made no attempt to help steady him because he really liked all of his fingers attached, thank you very much. It didn't take long for John to orient himself though and then he hopped down off of the infirmary bed.

He looked up at Rodney and though his teeth were bared, it wasn't in the vicious way that led Rodney to believe he wanted to tear his body to pieces. Instead, it was almost a… grin?

"You," Rodney said, as he followed John out of the infirmary. "Are strange. But at least you didn't turn into a bug this time."

John wagged his tail in agreement.


	2. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Author's Note: Second installment in my Dog Days 'verse. I know it's weird and probably serves no purpose, but I'm having fun darnit. Written at work so forgive the typos and such. Don't forget I'm a comment whore.**

"This is most strange," Teyla remarked from the doorway of John's quarters. Rodney just rolled his eyes because really? All the weird shit she's probably seen in her lifetime in the Pegasus galaxy and she was calling _this_ strange?

"I think it's cool," Ronon grinned, reaching down to ruffle John's pointy (of course) ears. John gave a throaty grumble but he didn't try to eat Ronon, which Rodney took as a good thing. "Who's gonna keep him?"

John barked and did that glaring thing.

Rodney ignored him and grabbed the open laptop from John's desk. "That's why I called you both here. I took the liberty of devising a schedule. I think it would be best if John had a little bit of stability, given his current situation, so in an attempt to keep things as 'normal' as humanly… err… as normal as possible, we'll take turns staying here with him."

"That is very thoughtful of you, Rodney," Teyla said.

Rodney puffed his chest out a little until John stared at him. He felt a little stupid, so he straightened and cleared his throat. "Right. Okay. I guess I'll take the first shift because Elizabeth is sending a team of scientists and linguists back through the gate. She wanted you two to stay here, but I managed to convince her that you should go with them. It'll save time in finding the damn outpost."

"Would it not be best if you came too? Surely, if anybody could figure out how to fix the machine, it would be you."

"That's what _I _said, but Elizabeth decided I would be of more use here, so whatever. Looks like I'm on doggy duty until you guys get back." John growled. "Oh, shut up. I didn't mean it like that."

"Very well," Teyla said, bowing just a little. It gave Rodney a great view down her top, which he took full advantage of until John whined. Frowning, Teyla crouched down in front of him and held her hand out for John to sniff. "I am glad you are alright, John," she said. "A little different than I am used to perhaps." She smiled and Rodney was pretty sure that John was smirking as smugly as a dog could as he practically shoved his nose right into her cleavage.

A very un-Teyla like squeal escaped her as John's cold nose touched her skin, but she just laughed and ruffled John's fur.

Life was so unfair.

"Let us know if you need anything," Ronon said and Rodney didn't know if he was talking to him or John so he just waved him off.

He waited until they were alone before he turned to John and glared. "You are such a dog," Rodney sniped and John gave a wheezy bark that probably meant John was laughing at him. Rodney rolled his eyes and closed the laptop. "So… here we are. In your room. What do you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Or… what do dogs do?"

John jumped up on the bed and turned around a few times before he flopped down, resting his head on his paws.

"Right… you must be exhausted. I guess transforming from human to dog is exhausting. So… you just… lay there like a good bo— um, hang out here and I'll just… yes."

He dropped down into the desk chair and sat the laptop down on the desk before he opened it back up. He was still waiting to hear from Carson, which was an annoyance in and of itself. How difficult could it be to identify a dog?

Reaching up, Rodney tapped his radio. "McKay to Beckett, come in."

"What, Rodney? I'm a little busy."

"Doing what? Clearly not completing the simple task I gave you."

"I have other patients than the Colonel, you know."

On the bed, John growled so Rodney spun around in the chair. "You can hear that?"

"Hear what?" Carson asked.

"Shut up. Not talking to you."

"Well who in the bloody hell are you talking to?"

John barked and Rodney frowned. He forgot that dogs were supposed to having exceptional hearing. This was both problematic and freakin' _awesome_. He wondered if he could use it to his advantage in the labs. He was pretty sure that Miko and Simpson talked about his ass at least once a week, though he couldn't prove it.

"Rodney? I really have to go. I'll let you know if I find anything. Beckett out."

"Carson! Carson, I'm not done with you yet! Carson!" John whined and lowered his head to his paws again. "The nerve of some people," Rodney griped.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "I've gotta tell you, this is weird for me. You're horrible company when you're human, but this is atrocious. At least you can understand me, I suppose. I think, anyway. You can, can't you?"

John barked.

"Thought so. You really are handling this well. I commend you."

John whined again and Rodney frowned. "Not handling it so well after all, huh?" Rodney rolled the chair over to the bed and reached out, pausing. "May I?"

John sighed a little through his nose and closed his eyes, so Rodney figured that was all the permission he was getting. Reaching out, he patted John gently on the top of the head. "I will fix this," he promised. "I don't know how yet, but I'll fix it. You just… have to give me a little time."

John turned and nudged Rodney's hand with his nose. Rodney thought that meant _I know._

.::.

It wasn't until the sun had already started to set that Rodney realized John might be hungry and really, the only reason he realized it was because _he_ was getting hungry.

They'd spent the majority of the afternoon watching movies (Rodney) and napping (John), but now it seemed that John was starting to get a little restless, so Rodney figured it was a good time to venture out into the city.

Elizabeth had made the announcement an hour earlier about John's temporary _condition _and she'd asked that everyone try to maintain some semblance of normalcy. The whole thing made Rodney laugh and John hunker down even more on the bed.

"It's now or never, you know."

John gave him a look that Rodney figured meant _Never is fine with me_, but Rodney patted his paw and stood up, closing the laptop. He groaned loudly as he stretched, cracking back before he motioned to John. "Come on. Best to just get it over with."

John sighed loudly and stood, shaking his fur out before he hopped down from the bed. Rodney grinned and opened the door, allowed John to trot out in front of him.

It was definitely weird watching John walk down the hallway, tail wagging behind him, but Rodney did his best to keep from snickering as he followed after him. Blessedly, the hallways were mostly empty, but the Mess was in full swing.

It was hysterical to watch as a group of marines snapped to attention as doggy John passed, but it was even funnier to watch him straighten as much as a dog could manage and give a quiet little 'woof' in return.

People left John alone for the most part as he made his way to the line with Rodney, but as they passed the physics table, Radek stood and pointed.

"Chodsky pes!"

"Excuse me?" Rodney asked, turning to glare at his second-in-command. "What did you just say?"

"Chodsky pes! I have not seen one for years!"

"If you're having hallucinations…"

"Colonel Sheppard, Rodney," Radek said. "Is a shepherd! I had one when I was small child!"

"Oh. Yes. Not German though, right?"

"No, no. From Czechoslovakia. Bohemian shepherd. Wonderful dog. I have a book."

"You brought a book about dogs to another galaxy?"

"Do not judge."

"Too late."

Radek rolled his eyes. "I will bring it to you."

"Right. Well… thanks." At his side, John snuffled a little, reminding Rodney why they were there. "Food. Yes. Thanks, Radek."

Radek waved them off.

"Well," Rodney said, "at least now we know what you are."

John looked up at him and sighed.

"Yeah… I don't know what good that does either."

John barks in response.


	3. Bed Intruder

**Author's Note: Crack, crack, crack. These stories have no purpose, other than to amuse me. Hopefully, they're amusing you too. Please don't forget to leave me some luuuurve, because that's my crack.**

The sound of the toilet flushing pulled Rodney from his thoughts. Turning, he watched as John trotted out of the bathroom, looking immensely pleased with himself, tongue lolling to the side.

"Did you just…?"

John gave him the dog version of a grin and took a great leap, landing on the bed. He scratched at the blankets, turned around a few times and then flopped down against the pillows, heaving a great sigh.

"Oh no. No, no, no. We agreed to take care of you and part of that agreement was that we would stay here to give you a little normalcy, but I did not agree to share my bed with a dog!"

John lifted his head and growled.

"The big, bad wolf routine will not work with me, Sheppard." Rodney slammed the laptop closed and stood. He pointed at the floor. "Down."

John bared his teeth and Rodney flinched a little, but he refused to budge.

"No. You drool bad enough when you're human. I don't want to drown in doggy drool." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at John. John glared back. Rodney debated baring _his_ teeth because that seemed to scare his minions well enough, but he doubted it would have any effect on John. Most likely, it would just make him look like a tool, so he stuck to glaring.

"I'm serious, John. Get down. I'm taking the bed. I'm the guest, after all."

"Woof," John said. He rolled over and scooted over on the bed a little. "Woof."

Rodney sighed. This was probably as good as it was going to get. "Fine," he muttered, running his hands through his hair as he made his way into the bathroom to change. "You keep your gigantic paws to yourself though! And the first time I get a mouth full of hair, you're going out on the balcony!" He called.

John just growled and flopped over.

When Rodney returned, he sat down on the edge of the bed, eyeing John warily. "Listen, I'm really not a dog person and I've certainly never shared my bed with one, so we should probably agree on a few… terms." Grabbing an extra pillow, he dropped it into the middle of the bed. "This over here is my half of the bed. I'll stay over here, you stay over there and we don't have to worry about anybody's face accidentally getting eaten off in the middle of the night. Does that sound reasonable?"

John seemed to mull it over, his ears twitching thoughtfully. After a moment, he stood and pawed at the area on his side of the pillow before he laid down, looking at Rodney through his doggy lashes.

"Good," Rodney said. The _boy_ was unspoken, but John still nipped at him.

.::.

Rodney woke up in the middle of the night with a foot digging into his side. _Paw_, he reminded himself, because dogs didn't have feet. Turning over onto his side, he squinted in the darkness and reached out to shove John.

"Grrrr."

"Oh, shut up," Rodney grumbled. "I thought we agreed that you would stay on your side of the bed," he complained. John whined and dug his paw in deeper. At some point, the pillow that had been used as a barrier had been thrown to the floor, but Rodney didn't know if that was John's handiwork or his own. It didn't matter though, because he certainly wasn't moving to get it.

After a moment, John must have grown bored of his 'poke the crap out of Rodney' game, because the pressure against his side disappeared. There was a little shuffling as John repositioned himself before he flopped back down, his furry back pressed against Rodney's side.

Rodney couldn't believe it; three times smaller than his usual form and an even bigger bed hog.

Go figure.

.::.

When Rodney woke up the next morning, it was to a heavy weight on his legs. At some point during the night, John had migrated down to the foot of the bed and sprawled out across his feet. He wiggled his toes experimentally and John whined, his eyes fluttering open sleepily.

"Thanks," Rodney said, because his feet were pretty toasty.

John gave a gruff 'woof' in response and lowered his head to his paws.

As much as he hated to, Rodney pulled his feet out from under John's warm body and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face tiredly. All in all, the night wasn't horrible after that first paw-in-the-side incident. Surprisingly, John was a decent bedmate, even if he had hogged in the beginning. At least there was no drool.

"Coffee," Rodney said drowsily. "Food?"

John's ears perked up and almost at once, he was leaping off the bed. Prancing over to the door, his tail wagging, he looked back at Rodney impatiently.

"Okay, okay." Reaching for his discarded pants, he pulled them up quickly and slipped his shoes on before following after John.

They'd made it through the first night and nobody had lost a limb. Maybe this whole best-friend-being-a-dog thing wouldn't be so awful after all, Rodney thought.

John barked from farther down the corridor, pulling Rodney from his thoughts. He was wagging his tail impatiently, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "I'm coming. Hey…" he stopped and sniffed the air. "Do you smell sausage?"

John barked happily.

Nope, it wouldn't be too bad at all.


	4. Spoils of War

**Author's Note: This one is for popkin16 , who wondered about how the ladies of 'Lantis would react to doggy!John. Crack, crack, cracky crack. Don't forget to comment, yo.**

By John's second day as a dog, he had the entire female population of Atlantis eating out of his hand. Paw. Whatever.

For the most part, they'd fallen all over him while he was human, but now, he was content to sit at their feet and allow them to scratch behind his ears or under his chin while his tongue lolled out of his mouth lazily. He'd even rolled over for Simpson, allowing her to scratch her nails across his belly while he kicked his foot, clearly pleased with all the attention.

Rodney thought it was sickening.

"You know," he said, late one evening while he was preparing for bed, "it's not fair that you get all the attention. I'm the one taking care of you right now."

"Woof."

"Okay, maybe taking care of you is a stretch, but still. I keep you company, I make sure you have a nice, soft place to lay in the lab and you know, help you out with stuff that requires thumbs. Like opening the door."

"Woof."

"Yes, I know that our doors don't have handles, but that's not the point. You couldn't open them without me."

John jumped onto the bed and pawed the blankets on his side before he flopped down. He looked up at Rodney through his obscenely long doggy lashes and sighed.

"No, I don't blame you for taking advantage of the situation you'd found yourself in, but it would be nice if you'd throw me a bone or something."

John growled.

"Bad joke. Right. Sorry. But really, help me out here, huh?"

John just closed his eyes. Rodney sighed. So much for cooperation.

.::.

The next day, John let Rodney walk him. On a leash. To the science labs.

Almost as soon as he stepped in, they were swarmed with women, some from other departments. Even Lieutenant Myers had snuck into the labs, pockets full of cold bacon. Rodney was a little put out that no one ever thought to bring _him_ cold bacon until Simpson sidled up to him, shy smile on her face.

"I think it's really sweet what you're doing for Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay."

"Well, I do what I can to look out for my friends," he said bravely. "It's not easy, but, well… somebody's got to do it."

"It must be so hard."

"You have no idea." John growled a little, but Rodney ignored him. "He refuses to share the bed. I can't sleep at night and I'm just so tired."

"I've got just the thing for you," Simpson said, patting his shoulder gently. She disappeared back into the throng of women to emerge seconds later with a bag of her best coffee. "Here, take it."

"Oh, I couldn't."

"I insist."

"Well, in that case…"

Rodney made a mental note: if he ever made it back to Earth on a permanent basis, he was definitely investing in a dog.

.::.

By the end of the day, not only had Rodney scarfed up on Simpson's special coffee, but he'd scored three bars of Zelenka's chocolate, Major Lorne's nice fleece throw—"For Colonel Sheppard. My dog back home used to love sleeping on it," he'd said—and Ronon's extra pudding cup.

Well, Ronon hadn't specifically given it to him. He'd mostly taken it when Ronon was playing 'fetch' with John and a really large stick that had no business in the Mess. Served him right though. What if he'd put someone's eye out?

Regardless of how he'd gotten it, by the time Rodney made it back to John's quarters later that night, he was comfortably full and looking forward to curling up underneath of that nice fleece blanket, but John had other ideas.

"It's not enough that you hog the bed, but you have to hog the blanket too?" He asked when John flopped down on top of it.

John growled.

"Just because Lorne _said_ it was for you doesn't mean it's really for you. You're going to shed all over it, and, and, and you have a fur coat! What do you need a fleece blanket for?"

"Grrrr."

"Fine. Whatever. But don't expect me to share any of Simpson's coffee with you when you revert back to being an obnoxious human with stupid hair!"

"Woof."

John did not share the blanket that night.

.::.

He did the next night, though, after Rodney freed him from the lab storage room he'd accidentally gotten locked in.

The blanket was just as toasty as Rodney thought it would be.

.::.

He did not share the blanket the night after that when Rodney called 'Here, boy!' in front of the entire mess.

Rodney swore that it was an accident.

John didn't believe him.

.::.

By the end of John's first week as a dog, he had the entire base eating out of the palm of his hand. Paw. Whatever. Except for weird old Garcia in Botany, who had been terrified of dogs since the age of three and Rodney. Because Rodney was not a dog person and because John hogged the bed, the fleece blanket and all the cold bacon that mysteriously showed up outside of John's door.

But then, on the night before Rodney handed doggy duty over to Ronon, John scooted over on the bed, whimpering pitifully until Rodney shut the laptop down and came over.

"I'm not going to miss this," he said. "Two weeks of peace and quiet and no drool or dog hair and, and, and…"

John rolled over, showing Rodney his belly and Rodney couldn't resist. Even though he wasn't a dog person. And even though John hogged the bed, the fleece blanket and all the cold bacon.

Maybe Rodney would miss this… just a little.


End file.
